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“I volunteer as tribute!” the girl roared, pushing aside other girls in the wake of her ferocity. I watch her run to the tuktok of the stage, fierce and not wanting to let anyone else claim the glorious position.

“Merida! No!,” cry two people in the crowd, her parents most likely. Boy, it must be nice to have parents that haven’t abandoned you.

Not that I blame my parents or anything. For leaving me to grow up with a portly old nanny in a drafty mansion after the accident that turned me into... what?

A monster. An aberration. A mutt. That’s what. Radiation -- a fancy word for the Capitol -- turned me into something less than human, something that makes people turn and stare when I walk past.

Needless to say, I only leave tahanan when it’s mandatory. If it wasn’t mandatory, I’d be sulking in one of my ripped up, once-luxurious bedrooms right now. All of this injustice makes me want to roar, go on a rampage.

Kill people. But I can’t, because people would think I was madami of a monster than they already do. Only on the Hunger Games do people get away with that kind of stuff.

Only on the Hunger Games...

The idea flashes in my mind immediately, and I wonder why I haven’t thought of it before. The Games are a chance for me to rampage, kill, slay, and be rewarded for doing so. If I return from the Capitol, having killed all those puny kids and even this wild-eyed girl who is now yelling at her parents and putting things off schedule, I might even be accepted in District Two.

Good thing I thought of this now. This is the last taon I can participate in the Games.

And I’ve decided to participate just in time, too. Toothiana Tooth, the bubbly, feather covered escort, has just asked if there are any male volunteers for District Two this year.

Of course they are, you bimbo! Why even bother to ask? And now I will be that volunteer.

In District One, the volunteering system is chosen randomly, in District Four, the nakaraan Victors vote from the volunteers. Here in District Two, the loudest, first person to make themselves heard is District Two’s new tribute.

“I VOLUNTEEER!” I roar, knocking down boys susunod to me who open their mouths. I stalk to the stage and take my place susunod to the red-head.

If Toothiana is taken aback sa pamamagitan ng my appearance, she doesn’t ipakita it. “So... what’s your name, bravo young man?” is all she asks me. Surprisingly, she has no Capitol accent, although she does sound like a valley girl.

She’s a bit harder to hate than I thought she’d be, but I glare as I answer. “Adam Lebeau,” I growl, feeling eyes staring at me everywhere.

“Alright!” the peppy, feathered escort says, grinning at the audience and running to the front of the stage. “A round of applause for our tributes, Merida Turnbull and Adam Lebeau!”

A ripple of applause goes through the crowd. They’re not applauding me, are they? They can’t be, I’m a beast. It must all be for the redhead who is grinning vicariously, sticking out her tongue in the direction of her parents.

Then the mayor begins the dull Treaty of Treason, and me and Merida, both knowing the routine, turn to face each other. Her face is flushed kulay-rosas from all the yelling she did, and a bloodthirsty smirk plays across her mouth.

I’m pretty sure she isn’t really conventionally attractive, but then again, I’m a beast, so who am I to talk? Conventional attractiveness has never been my forte.

I realize suddenly that the Treaty has ended, and ilipat to shake her hand as the ceremony dictates, but she gets there first. Clutching my enormous, balahibo covered paw in her small white hand, she doesn’t just shake my hand, she lifts it over her head. I see where she’s going with this. I can’t lift my hand over my head, because that would leave Merida dangling from it sa pamamagitan ng her arm, but I lift it as high as possible. This brings out another round of applause, and this time I’m not entirely sure it’s all for Merida.

Then we are led away sa pamamagitan ng Peacekeepers, two of them escorting Merida and a total of seven of them dragging me along. Merida is pushed into a room on the right side of a hallway in the Justice Building, and her parents must have been waiting, because I hear her, yelling at them in her funny accent. I am pushed through a door on the left.

Mrs. Potts the nanny is waiting with her little grandson, and Babette, the maid, is there too, sobbing into her apron. I smile at them. The hired help as always been the closest thing to family for me, since my parents abandoned me.

In fact, I wouldn’t even call them hired help. My parents had forgotten to send the paycheck for years, but they never left, and there was madami than enough money in the ligtas anyway.

“Oh, Adam!” Mrs. Potts says. I envelop her plump frame in a hug. “Do take care, won’t you?”

“Of course,” I answer truthfully as I pull away from the embrace. “I’m going to try to win.”

“I just want you to come home,” she says tearfully. We spend the susunod twenty minutos in silence, and then the Peacekeepers arrive. Mrs. Potts, Babette and Chip each give me a heartfelt goodbye, and then they file out the door and are gone.

The Peacekeepers lead me through the building, finally stopping in front of a train, the doors all open. They direct me to enter the train, and I do.

Merida is there, as well as Toothiana and our mentor. She’s not very intimidating, and she doesn’t look like much. A wiry girl who can’t be any older than Merida, and is a little shorter. Her blond hair has a strange, block like texture, and looks very styled.

Astrid Starr. I remember her from last year’s Games. How she killed six tributes during the bloodbath with arrows, and then bludgeoned tribute after tribute with a mace as the days went on. Her determination in the interviews. Her Viking-styled chariot outfit. How she snapped off her fellow tribute’s head with her bare hands. She was a vicious, killing machine, and it’s strange to see her now, no longer on a telebisyon screen, but right here in front of me.

But then Toothiana is filling my vision with her colorful feathers. I hate her fake, Capitol-made body alterations. When she turns herself into a part animal, it’s a fashion statement. When I am turned into one, it’s a freak accident. “You’re here!” she exclaims peppily, grabbing me sa pamamagitan ng the arm. Why are so many people touching me today? People usually run away from me, not grab my arm.

I pull away, but I’m so unused to physical contact that I misjudge my strength, and send her flying across the room, where she lands in an undignified heap.

“Ouch,” she says weakly. Nobody moves to help her up. I stand awkwardly there, looking down at her. Merida gives a snort and begins laughing her asno off. She’s even less attractive when she laughs. Astrid grins, a grin not too different from the one she gave her district partner, Jack Frost’s, decapitated head.

Looking at the girls, laughing at a fallen, fake bird, I can only lament: Why am I stuck on a train with two bloodthirsty teenage girls and a feathered escort?

Astrid finally stops laughing long enough to pat me on the shoulder. What is with all this goddamn touching?! “Well, Adam,” she says with a smirk. “If you can do that sa pamamagitan ng accident, I can’t wait to see what you can do when you try,” she brushes a few locks of hair from her face. It isn’t a strange thing for a girl to do, especially with her stupid haircut, but it seems so much different from the Astrid who killed happily, who emerged from the arena a small, grubby mass of a sixteen taon old.

Much madami vulnerable. Much madami personal. And those are two things I don’t do well with. Luckily, Astrid then straightens and turns to go. “Well, see you at dinner!” she cries, and then gives a giggle that I feel is directed at Merida. “It’s so strange! Being on this train again, going to the Capitol... And not even being in the Games this year!” Then she is gone, and from the look on Merida’s face, these two bloodthirsty bitches will be the best of friends.

“I’m so glad she’s our mentor,” the redhead gushes. I didn’t expect her capable of gushing, but after about two segundos she straightens up and is out the door.

Toothiana is off the floor, too. “It’s okay,” she says, although I never apologized to her and I don’t plan too. Her mouth opens as if to say something but I interrupt her.

“Just... go, alright?”

She’s out the door before I finish the sentence.


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[b]*Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Up susunod will be District Three, where we will see two volunteers and learn about the class divisions of the Districts.*